Harry Potter and the Creative Writing Class
by Coldwafer
Summary: Harry returns to school on his sixth year only to encounter everyone's worst nightmare. The Creative Writing teacher.


**Disclaimer**: Take a wild guess. Come on, I dare ya!

**Notes**:  This story may contain spoilers from books... All of them. Beware. I don't know how long this is going to be; I was having fun writing it. It's based on my own English class- I swear, the teacher is insane. I don't want to have it drag out though...

                                                                                 **Harry Potter and the Creative Writing Class**

                                                                                         Chapter One: The Teacher from Hell

            It was Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, and the usual order of events was going undisturbed.  There were no teachers wearing purple turbans, no Ford Anglia to crash into the Whomping Willow, no Dementors attacking the Hogwarts Express, and so forth. The feast was as usual, wondrous for the young British students, and Dumbledore was still considered to be a raving lunatic by some. The only difference was the two new teachers sitting at the main table. One was Remus Lupin, and the other was unknown to all. Probably even Dumbledore. It was a corpulent old woman, who had striking blue eyes, and a smiling mouth. When Harry laid eyes on her, a jolt of horror went down his spine. She greatly resembled Umbridge, if not by her fashion sense. Shaking off the sense of impending doom, he prodded Ron in the side.

"I'm glad Lupin's back. Wonder if he's going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again this year?" he muttered under his breath. Ron shrugged, but looked relived to see that Harry was talking. He had been very quiet all summer- most likely due to the fact that Sirius had been killed.

"Dunno. And that doesn't explain who that old hag is..."

"_Ron_!" scolded Hermione. "You shouldn't judge people on their appearance. I'm sure that she's a very good teacher..."

"Oh, yeah. Just like Umbridge, huh?" he retorted. Harry sighed. It was going to be a _very _long year. Just when he was on the verge of telling his two best friends to stop fighting, Dumbledore stood up and all talk ceased. Harry noticed that the Headmaster looked older than usual, if possible, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. However, they still twinkled in a friendly nature. Holding out his arms in a welcoming fashion, he smiled.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. The rules still apply from last year. Students are not allowed in the Forbidden Forest, and not to use illegal items. The list can be seen in Filch's office. We have two new teachers joining us this year. One is Professor Lupin, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, and we have Professor Beidse, who will be teaching a Creative Writing class." There were murmurs at this, but Dumbledore cleared his voice and continued. "We felt that it would be good for students to have an _optional_ class in which to express themselves. You are encouraged to attend." His eyes met Harry's for a fraction of a second. "That will be all."

* * *

            "That was a really short speech, huh?" Seamus remarked in a good-natured way, avoiding Harry's gaze. The previous year he had accused Harry of lying about Voldemort's return, and he was still feeling awkward. "Wonder why we would have a Writing class, of all things?"

"Well, since You-Know-Who's back, I guess they think we're going to freak out. Pretty stupid, really. I don't need to write poems to calm down," stated Ron coolly, as he changed into his pajamas. He still hadn't forgiven Seamus for insulting the word of his best friend.

"That's pretty high and mighty of you, considering you won't even say Voldemort's name," snapped Harry irritably. When Ron's ears turned red and he mumbled something about not meaning it like that, Harry didn't even bother to apologize. He was too busy thinking about what Dumbledore said. In which to express themselves... So Dumbledore thought that he was going to snap? 

_Wonderful_, he thought bitterly. 

* * *

            When Harry woke up the next morning, Ron had already gone down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Grimacing as he pulled on his robes, he wished that he hadn't snapped at Ron like that. He would have to apologize later. When he left his dormitory, he noticed that it was very late- everyone else had already left to the Hall to eat. Walking through the halls alone was unbearable; he couldn't help remembering Ron's expression. Why did he always have to do something like that? On the first day back from the holidays, too! But when he got to the Great Hall, all thoughts of his rudeness vanished from his mind. His green eyes widened in horror.  

"What. The. Hell."

(A/N: Dun dun! Cliff hanger! Nah, won't stop here. I know I'll never be able to start up again if I do.)

            The Great Hall had been transformed. Instead of four house tables, there was one large square table for all the students to seat themselves around. Hanging on the walls were banners of a lion, a snake, a badger, and a raven making a circle around a revolving picture of the world. Harry's eyes remained unnaturally wide. He noticed there were little colored squares at each seat; red, green, gold, and blue. He knew what this meant. As he had arrived late, there were only a few seats left, and only one red card remained. Right next to Draco Malfoy. He turned around quickly, walking out of the hall. _Eating is overrated anyways_, he thought, his mind strangely numb. It didn't even register that no one was eating, and all of the students looked extremely unhappy. A cheery voice called out, making him stop in his tracks.

"Harry Potter! Come and join us!" 

Harry slowly turned around, and with no surprise, it was Professor Beidse that had welcomed him. 

"I thought it would be a _lovely_ idea for all of us to have a common breakfast, lunch, and dinner. None of this silly competition between the houses! These will be your seats for the rest of the year," she continued merrily, as Harry walked stiffly towards the large table. "Sit down, sit down. Right next to Mr. Malfoy."

Harry didn't even question how she knew his name. He just sat and stared at his plate, a dull expression of his face. _This was wrong... it was all wrong... _ Looking up, he noticed that the teachers were also seated around the table. Professor Snape looked livid, but Dumbledore seemed to be staring at the enchanted ceiling in great amusement. Harry glanced upwards- it was a cloudy day. 

_Perfect. Just bloody perfect._

* * *

"Really, Harry," scolded Hermione, as they walked back to the Gryffindor common room after a rather eventless day. Harry had received his OWLs back over the summer, and he was now taking NEWT level DADA, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology. He strongly suspected that the Headmaster had played a part in this. It didn't improve his mood. "You didn't really suspect to curse Malfoy and get away with it?"

"He's the son of a bloody Death Eater," growled Harry between his teeth. "You try sitting next to him while he brags how his father escaped this summer..."

"Well, I can't. There's a seating plan now... Don't give me that look! I don't like it either. I have to sit next to Goyle and Luna!" Hermione paused for a second, and glanced at Harry. "Are you going to that Creative Writing class tonight?"

"With that... witch?!" snorted Ron. "Are you mad?! She was the one who organized that torture chamber! Harry wouldn't be caught dead going there." Harry's eyes lowered to the ground, his face burning with an ill-concealed rage.

"I have to go... its a part of my detention."

* * *

            Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat beside each other in a small room that they had never seen before. Hermione genuinely seemed interested in the course, and Ron was determined to make the experience easier for Harry. It had taken a while to find the room; the directions on the bulletin board in the common room were very vague. The notice seemed to focus mainly on the objectives of the class. 

Reach your full writing potential! Make new friends, and release your creative spirit! Have fun!

When they finally had gotten to the classroom, they were distracted by a large poster on the door that read: _Enter and let your dreams soar!_ Ron had to be calmed down before he would enter the classroom; he was laughing so hard he nearly choked. They opened the door and were greeted by a room full of art posters, and various letters and pictures from children from other countries. When Harry glanced at them, he noticed that they were all thanking Mrs. Beidse for helping them "make their dreams come true". There were five long tables, all facing a whiteboard. Only a few other students were scattered here and there; Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, a couple Hufflepuffs that Harry didn't know, and... Draco Malfoy. Harry stared at the latter for several long seconds.

"What. The. Hell."

                                                                                                            **End of chapter**

** Coldwafer**:  Well, that was fun. I'll be updating soon, I expect. I just have to get off the computer now. I weep inside. Sorry if the format is all weird- I'm still having troubles getting a hang of this.


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